An Experiment in Self-Love

To be honest I don't really know what I'm going to write about as I sit down here in front of my computer.  I'm coming back to you after a break caused by a surprise visit from my sister and her little family.  My last couple weeks were spent  soaking in every second of them being here and getting to know my newest niece who was only six weeks old when they got here.  They have only been gone a few days and I already miss them fiercely.

I just erased three paragraphs of nonsense and complaining about this funk I'm in.  Instead of going into all the details about how I feel right now and why, I think I would rather just try to get myself out of it.

I have GOT to get rid of this feeling of hopelessness!

If I don't I really will NEVER get back on track in my journey to health.  Or to anywhere else, really. 

So, as I type this, I'm going to think of 10 good things I did today and hope they outweigh the crappy eating and no exercise I've been going through (among other things) the last few weeks.

Here goes:

1. Held Paige on our couch all morning while she writhed around uncomfortably, crying from her fever and stomach bug.  Did my best to comfort her and give her the care she needed to feel better.

2. Got out of bed and got my work done this morning.

3. Praised my three-year-old for all her help, good behavior, and patience as her sick sister threw a wrench in our plans for the day.

4. Had the intention of making today a fun day with my girls and not focusing on my house.  Zoe and I picked an activity to do and everything.  I owe her one tomorrow.

5. Cut out Zoe's tiny, detailed paper dolls so she could play with them.

6. Got through my laundry folding quickly so I could sit down and blog/ hang out with Matt and talk while he plays his video game this evening.

7. Drank all my water for the day.

8. Read my scriptures.

9.  Gushed to my friend about the beautiful gift Matt bought me for our Anniversary and how amazing he's been lately.  (He's been extra amazing.)  And now I've gushed to you guys!

10.  Finally sat down and blogged, even though I didn't feel like it because I didn't feel like I had anything good or important to say. 

Wow, you guys.

 I actually feel a lot better. 

Not like I'm cured of the funk, but definitely better.  You wouldn't believe how hard it was for me to think of good things I did.  Amazing how hard I am on myself.  I literally stared at the computer screen, after writing the first one, for a good five minutes. 

Maybe the answer to beginning to love myself is learning to recognize the good that I've done. 

That's a really new concept for my perfectionist self.  Off to ponder. 

Thanks for being my sounding board.  I know you dear, sweet people that come here don't really like to participate in these little experiments of mine, but I truly hope you will this time.  It was enough to put a smile on my face after a rough couple of days.  Maybe it will be for you too! I would love for you to join me. It doesn't have to be 10, but think of at least one good thing you did today or within the last week and share it with me. I know I'm not the only one with self love issues, and I know I'm not the only one who is in a funk or needs motivation, so please join in. You can write your own post and leave me the link, or just leave your good thing(s) in the comments.  Thanks, people. 

The Appointment (part two)

Even though I didn't get any response to the first part of this repost I still wanted to go ahead and finish this story from my past.  Or maybe it's just that I got a surprise visit from my sister, Nell and her husband and new baby and I'm a little busy soaking in as much time with them as humanly possibly.  Either way, this will be the last repost for a while.  Thanks for bearing with me on these writing dry spells!


I’ve been trying to find a minute to get on here and write about friday’s appointment, I finally found time just now, so bear with me as I try to get all this out.

My emotions were a little raw the rest of the day Friday. I just…I don’t know. I was so nervous-I’m talking fidgeting, shaking, pit-in-your-stomach nervous- all morning to go to the appointment. I thought they would do all these tests and tell me what was going on and I’d have somewhere to go from there- but I got there and all he did was talk to us, tell us that Matt needed to give a sample, gave us a couple options and said, “Everything looks normal and I’m confident you will be pregnant within the next few months.”

I suppose I should have taken that as good news, but I felt like nothing was really resolved and I was still recovering from how hard it was to even go to that appointment. I just shouldn’t have had all those expectations when I really had no idea WHAT to expect. Part of my problem is, if there’s nothing wrong with me at this point, why can’t I just get pregnant? Why didn’t they do tests on me too? Why didn’t they give us a drug, or something to try in the meantime? I went to the appointment expecting answers, and left with more questions. I suppose I should have gotten all my frustrations out while I was there…but I just felt like I was off in another world…it was the weirdest feeling…almost like having an out-of-body experience, like I wasn’t supposed to be there or something.

Today, I’m feeling ok about it. Matt took his sample in to the lab this morning so we’ll wait and see if the problem lies in that department. Once we find that out, the doctor wants to do a dye test on me- basically they flush a colored liquid through my tubes to make sure things flow freely and everything is clear. After that test, they will test to make sure my cervical mucus isn’t killing off the sperm. If that is the case, they will do artificial insemination (by the husband) to get the sperm past the cervical mucus so they will have a better chance. So, we have a plan. I feel like everything will be ok. I am trying not to worry about artificial insemination and it’s cost-since we haven’t even gotten that far yet, but it’s hard for me not to worry.

My hope is that it will be something simple. I am hoping that something like fertility drugs will fix the problem, or if there is no problem, I am hoping that Heavenly Father is sending us a child soon, that he’s just waiting for something specific to happen first. Right now, I’m just waiting- like I haven’t done enough of that in a year- to find out SOMETHING. I appreciate your comments and well wishing on my behalf, and I will continue to keep you posted.

Originally posted April 2007

The Appointment: Part one (A resurrected post)

I know I promised new stuff this week, but I'm neck deep in house updating and upkeeping stuff and I just can't muster up a new post today. So, I thought it would be interesting (especially to all my newer readers) to repost a couple posts this week from my infertility journey. We all know that I eventually conceived and now have two little ones, but the path to that point was hard. This post was after a year of trying on our own...


On Saturday Matt and I went on an amazing walk (finally) on the trail behind our house. We have decided to continue to walk there…often. I have decided, though, to write about it another day. I have to warn you, things will get a little up close and personal from here on out, so if you don’t want to know…stop reading.

Today, I am feeling a little on edge. Up until now, I have only slightly hinted at the fact that we have been trying for a baby. To say that this has been a fun and wonderful process would be an overstatement at this point. I am certain my friends and family have had it with my complaints but today, I just need to get it out.

I feel like my body is playing tricks on me. I was supposed to know today whether or not we accomplished pregnancy this month. If you think it’s funny that I used the word “accomplished”, you have never tried for a year to have a baby. Instead of knowing, I got a little trickle of the evil red stuff, no cramps and instead of the tenderness of “the twins” subsiding-as it usually does on day 1- it got worse. So, of course, my mind starts racing…trying to find one good reason for me to think…”maybe, oh maybe”…nope…gotta block that thought.

You see, I have become well trained in the art of stopping myself from thinking about the unthinkable. After the MELTDOWN last October, I’m not allowed to think “that” until I have a straight faced doctor to confirm it…twice. However, just because I have trained myself to stop those thoughts, it doesn’t mean the mind won’t try. It’s been eating at me all day…festering deep inside my brain…and tearing at my heart. I even considered buying a test…but who knows how much money I’ve spent on those already.

I am sure there are many women who have gone through the same thing I am going through. My question is…did your body play tricks on you? This isn’t the first time things like this have happened. In fact, I think there has been about 1 month out of 11 that things played out normally and I had a definitive “no”. Every other month there has been a pause and then a lot of questions. It has been absolute torture. I am not a patient person…and it is bad enough that 11 months have gone by…but does my body have to re-open the wound each time with a serrated knife?

I have almost become numb to it. I wouldn’t be surprised if/when it happens and I don’t believe it. I will be staring right into the doctor’s eyes as he tells me and I won’t believe him. Why? I don’t know. Maybe I’ve decided I am incapable of this…maybe motherhood through this route isn’t my path…or maybe, I’ve just heard “no” so many times…”yes” is a far-away, forgotten word. Either way, none of these things are the reason I am on here.

Today, I made a call to the doctor…and, admitting defeat, scheduled the dreaded appointment:

Nurse: “What kind of appointment do you need to schedule?”
Me (timid): “I am not sure, I was just told to call and schedule a fertility appointment after we had been trying for a year.”
Nurse: “What date marks a year?”
Me: “April 12th, so probably something anytime after that.”

My appointment is April 13th…8:15 am. It seems so final. I know there is a road ahead…but I never thought conceiving would be so hard. You grow up thinking, “Well, when I want to have a baby, I will.” It doesn’t work that way…at least not for me. I know, I know…there is still hope. Maybe my body isn’t playing tricks on me this month…we do still have next month…but today…all I can think about is April 13th…and I’m scared.

Originally published March 2007

Self Esteem Saturdays: Journey to Health Featured!

Jia, of Untypically Jia, is a great friend (real life and virtual) and an amazing person. I knew her growing up through church and school and reconnected with her through blogging years later. Such a small world! I am constantly inspired by her writing and her willingness to share so much of herself with others. 

She has given me the opportunity to participate in what she calls Self Esteem Saturday where she has featured my post from last week. I would love the support if you want to stop over and say hello and I'm sure she would love to meet you as well. While you're there, click around and read some of her stuff. I promise you won't be disappointed. She is a wonderful writer and great storyteller and all around fun person. You will like her, I promise. 

If you are visiting me from her blog today, hello and welcome! Please take some time to look around and feel free to comment. We're pretty open around here and love to make new friends. If you like what you read please find a way to follow using those little buttons over there to the right. So glad to have you here!

Click here to see my post and hang out and to read some of the other Self Esteem Saturday posts. See you back here next week!

P.S. I know we've really hashed out that post a lot this week. It's just because it's so important to me. I promise to be back with new stuff next week. Happy weekend!!

Five Minute Friday: Real

I took a break from Five Minute Friday last week to post one of the hardest posts I have ever written.  But I am back in the swing this week and it's time to click over to the Gypsy Mama and join in on this wonderful writing exercise.

Today's prompt: REAL

Go.

Real can be amazing.  I decided this week to be real with myself and all of you.  I spilled my guts.  Put all my feelings out on the interwebs and posted pictures I would normally keep to myself.  It was scary and extremely hard, but I'm so glad I did it. 

Because REAL means I get to be encouraged by all you wonderful people that visit me here.  REAL means I get to hear your stories.  REAL means that you know I'm not perfect, and I know you're not perfect, but we love each other more for our imperfections. 

This week I received so many beautiful comments from you wonderful people.  And many more pageviews.  I hope sharing my story helped you or inspired you as much as your words and your visits inspired me.

It can be difficult to put our real selves out there.  Hard to present the real picture to the world.  We have so many perceived expectations of what people want from us.  From this experience, and many others, I've discovered that mostly people just want to know that everyone else's lives are just as beautiful and messy as theirs are. 

Real is what connects us.  Forms friendships.  Helps us to grow.  Helps us to become more of who we REALLY are and be better for it.  So thank you for letting me be real here, for your kindness, and for being real back.

Stop. 

What experiences have you had when you decide to be real with yourself and others?

The Journey to Health: Part Two

You'll want to read yesterday's post before you dive into this one.  These are my memories as they come to me.  Seen from my point of view.  The things that have stuck with me and created this mindset.

I was the skinny kid.  All arms and legs and knobby knees.  For the most part, I was a happy kid with a happy childhood.  But, for as long as I can remember, I've never felt comfortable in my skin.

I think I was maybe seven in this picture

My earliest memory of body hate was an offhand comment by a ballet teacher that I was too tall for ballet.  I remember feeling awkward next to all the other, shorter, more graceful little girls.  I remember always being one of the tallest girls in school, taller than several of the boys until they finally passed me in middle school.

I remember sitting on the bus in elementary school and hating the way my thighs spread out across the seats when I wore shorts.  To say that I was skinny growing up is an understatement.  Yet, I had these thoughts.

Sixth Grade

As I got older, and taller, I could never find pants that fit right.  I couldn't shop at regular stores and buy any pair of pants.  They were always too short for my long legs, and too baggy for my shapeless hips and lack of a butt.  I had to buy my pants at the department stores.  I remember having to buy Arizona Jeans.  The slims.  Everyone else was wearing the super baggy jeans that were the style back then and I was in school in my slims and my white canvas tennis shoes.

For the most part I stuck with my friends, who didn't care what I wore.  But I remember the jeers and comments I got from the few on my attire.  I remember hating being so thin for many reasons, but mostly because everyone thought it was really funny to tease me for it.  Most of them didn't know for years and many still don't know, until maybe now, that the teasing gave me a complex.  How is a young girl to feel comfortable in her changing body when she gets teased for her tiny boobs and gangly arms?

Seventh Grade

Once I entered high school, I finally gained a little bit of weight, but was still teased incessantly by well meaning friends.  I played it off well.  I pretended to love myself, to present a confident front.  Mostly I was unsure of myself and eager for the attention of boys- the only thing that seemed to make me feel that I was desirable.  I had a series of boyfriends.  I kissed them all too early. 

I remember never liking my body shape, even when I was thin.  I wasn't athletic and didn't have a lot of muscle.  Back then it was merely good genes.  I wasn't healthy.  I liked to run, but didn't do it regularly.  I ate nachos and soda for most of my lunches.  I had what I would call a boyish shape when I was thin, and an apple shape now that I carry some weight.  My waist and hip measurements have always been very similar, and my shoulders always seemed too wide for my body.  When I was young it wasn't as noticeable.  Now I can't help but see it every time I look in the mirror.  In my face I can recognize my beauty, but not anywhere else.

Senior Portrait

I remember hating the way several of my pants fit in high school.  Trying to fit my butt, my pants were always so tight around the waist the front button tended to roll downward.  For some reason pants were made for people with hips.  For the most part they still are.  And if I managed to find some that fit me in the waist and hips, they were usually too short.  I have never enjoyed shopping for pants.

My confidence didn't get any better in college.  I gained the "freshman fifteen".  Looking back at those pictures, I just looked healthy.  For a girl who had been rail thin all her life, this was a hard thing for me to deal with.  Never having gained weight, I didn't really know what to do about it.  Many who knew me then never knew I struggled with confidence.  More than once I had a guy reassure me that I was beautiful...or sexy.  I never fully believed them.

When I met Matt it was the first time I have ever been with someone who was equally infatuated with me.  All my previous relationships had been off balance in that way.  I knew he was the one simply because it was the first time I felt loved and appreciated just as much as I loved and appreciated him.  No more, no less.  I built my confidence through him.  He was sweet and complimentary. 

October 10, 2003

I, of course, married him.  We spent several years in (mostly) marital bliss.  Still, I never felt confident or sexy in my skin.  In the beginning he reassured me often.  But, as is the case in many marriages, when you deny what they say enough, when you won't take it to heart, when you feel like "he's just saying that because he has to", eventually they will get tired of having to tell you all the time.  He never stopped completely, but it slowed and my confidence waned.

Christmas 2006

As the years went by, I slowly gained weight.  I weighed 115 pounds when I got married.  When I got pregnant with Zoe four years later I weighed 152.  I was 157 when I got pregnant with Paige.  Forty pounds to me, who will forever have my thin frame in mind as the "right frame", was quite a lot.  For too many years, I hated it, complained about it, came up with all sorts of fantastical ways to do something about it.  For too long, nothing worked quick enough for my impatient, perfectionist mind.  Not to mention the fact that I now had numerous stretch marks from carrying two babies.  Gestational diabetes during my pregnancies made me feel even worse about the state of my body.

Two months before conceiving Zoe.

Still, I always depended on the fact that he would love me no matter what.  I set my confidence on that foundation and kept going.  I didn't love myself.  I didn't feel sexy.   But as long as he loved me and thought I was beautiful, that was enough.  Until it wasn't.

Zoe's first birthday.  The picture that made me realize how out of shape I really was.

When we went through our rough patch last year, that foundation crumbled and I found myself face to face with all that body loathing, along with all the self destructive thoughts I had tried to push back for too many years.  Initially my thoughts were that if he couldn't love me, then no one could.  Especially a 28 year old nursing Mom with two kids. 

Just after having Paige.  The next one was two months later.

Then, due to the stress, under eating and nursing a baby I dropped thirty pounds in several weeks.  For the first time in years I was able to find reasons to appreciate my body.  I fit into clothes without bulging in places.  I noticed people checking me out when I went places.  I had my confidence back, hooray!

My lowest weight in years.

Unfortunately, when you drop weight that quickly it's rare to keep it off.  When Matt and I got back together I had recently quit nursing because I wasn't producing enough milk.  Then I got on birth control.  Then I relaxed a little and my eating habits went back to normal.  Twenty of those Thirty pounds came piling back on.  All my confidence still residing in my thinner body.

Easter, just starting to gain the weight back.

With trust, intimacy and love in rebuilding mode it was imperative to me to get back to that thinner body.  I had to get my confidence back.  And so I started my journey to health.  Gratefully, I learned a few things while on my own.  I learned that being a perfectionist all my life didn't have to define me, that I could change.  I learned that I needed to work towards what I wanted out of life and stop letting life pass me by.  So I set goals.  I got excited about life!  And I tried to tackle everything at once.

You can see the weight in my face.

And I failed to accomplish much of anything.  The goals that were supposed to help me build myself up and help me achieve my dreams were suddenly crushing me.  So I took a step back, evaluated which goal was the most important to me, and I went for it.  I am proud of my accomplishments in regards to my health last year. 

Yet, it is so easy for me to sink back into self loathing.  One month of falling off the wagon (much of it out of my hands) and there I was hating myself for my choices, hating my body for what was happening to it, yet being unable to find the drive to fix it.  Hating getting dressed in the only jeans that fit my hips and butt- low rise- which I am constantly pulling up and they let my Mommy-pudge and back fat hang right over the top.  (The alternative being purchasing jeans that sit higher and either cut me in half, creating worse bulges and discomfort or give me a baggy butt.)  Then I remembered, again, that my life is in my hands and got back to work.  The progress feels good.  Just working towards my goal and being relatively close makes me feel better about myself.

I hate this picture

But what hit me, what disturbs me, what I can't get out of my mind, is that this last episode of self destructive behavior made me realize that I need to learn to love myself. 

Myself NOW. 

Not the self that lives in a 125 pound body.  Not the self that finally learned to ALWAYS speak calmly to her children.  Not the self that figures out how to cross off everything on her list.  Not the self that finally learns to balance everything. 

Not she who is the perfect wife.  Not she who doesn't get nervous in front of people.  Not the girl who never messes up musically- or never buries her talents. Not perfection in any way. 

No.

ME.  M.E.  Me.

A couple weeks ago, still had some muscle definition. When I look in the mirror, all I see is that middle part.

The me who has trouble getting in the shower at a decent time everyday.  The me who will probably always have at least saggy skin on her belly.  The me who's clothes never fit quite right.  The me who yells at her kids sometimes.  The me who is the perfectionist.  The me who is not.  The me who is trying hard to get her talents back.  I want to love the me in the process.  Because really, I will never be perfect in every way.  I don't want to be.  I am not Mary Poppins.  I am me.  And I need to learn to not just be ok with that, but to be happy with that.  To be confident in that. 

I'm not sure how to get there.  I do know that I have this goal on my list for the year.  "Be happy with myself."  Now that I've realized just how self destructive I have been.  I want to change it.  I want to have the kind of confidence in myself to know that I'm strong, worthy and beautiful no matter what behavior I exhibit and no matter what weight I am.  I don't want anyone or anythings else to have to carry my confidence and happiness for me.  I want to haul it myself.

Because a journey to health, I've discovered, doesn't just mean physically.  It also includes the mind.  I need to collect my thoughts, and please, your ideas, on how to accomplish this goal.  When I do, I will write part three of this series.

My feelings are a bit raw right now, I'm a little afraid to actually click that "publish" button up there.  I have tried a few times in my life to express these feelings just to be told that I shouldn't feel that way because I have a thin frame.  Looking back at all those pictures of my youth, I see nothing wrong with that girl.  I'm not sure why I ever had the thoughts I did.  Other than many offhand comments.  Perhaps we should all be really careful about what we say to those with impressionable minds.  Obviously I've realized that I shouldn't feel that way, but these feelings are real to me.  They hurt and they run deep.  I decided to go ahead and write it out because I think there might be others with a similar story.  I think that even if the story is different, so many others can relate to these feelings.  I think this needs to change, and the first step to change is admitting the problem.   So here goes...please be nice.

The Journey to Health: Part One

It's been a while since I posted about exercise and my eating habits (or posted at all).  I was doing really well for quite a while.  I saw some amazing changes in my body.  More importantly, I felt them.  It feels good to exercise and eat healthy foods (for the most part).  So good that I got to a point where fast foods and sweets were difficult to eat.

In December my family got hit hard with illness.  It started with my girls and then we all just kept passing it around.  Initially, even through caring for sick little ones, I was doing well at keeping up with my workouts and good eating habits.  Then I got some form of their virus that took me nearly four weeks to completely get over.  An upper respiratory virus completely destroyed my ability to workout.  Believe me, I tried.  I couldn't breathe and was so run down afterwards that it just wasn't worth it.  Not to mention I felt so much worse the next day.  Then Christmas came with all the sweets, vacations, living away from my home and environment and my eating habits went out the window too.   You see where I'm going with this.

Since returning home I have continually tried to get back into the swing of things.  I have been drinking 100 ounces of water almost daily for months. I haven't had a carbonated beverage in ages.  But I kept giving into cravings, excusing myself from workouts, eating five sugar cookies instead of one.  Needless to say that, though I haven't gained any weight, I know I've lost tone and muscle definition.  At this point, it feels like I'm starting over, though I know that's not completely true.

Yesterday I decided to put the excuses away and get back to work.  It started with a good workout followed by another this morning and a great day of eating.  Tracking what I eat, writing it down, making myself accountable to someone.  I know what I need to accomplish my goals, I know how to get there, it's just kind of a mind game sometimes. 

Mind games, I think, are the hardest part of weight loss, body acceptance, controlling cravings, and making good choices.  For me, if I have a bad meal I will often give myself permission to have an entire day of poor eating choices.  If that day happens to be a Friday, I will sometimes give myself until Monday to shape up.  I know I should just make better choices the next meal, or at least the next morning.  I also find that I'm ashamed of it.  Not wanting Matt to know I ate a whole thing of red vines, or cookie dough.  Not because he would be disappointed, but because I am and don't want anyone to know.

I deal with a lot of this every day.  I have to talk myself out of raiding the girls' candy stash from Christmas.  I have to make myself eat a piece of fruit instead of something sweet.  I know it gets easier.  I have already been on that side.  It's just pushing through this wall of doubt that I can't make it to where I want to be.  That wall that taunts me to go back to the days of eating what I feel like instead of being in control of what enters my body.

As I've chiseled away at this wall, and struggled with a bit of depression at losing ground I had already covered in pursuit of my goals, I've discovered a few things about myself:

When I get depressed about my lack of self control regarding food it causes me to want to eat more.  And it's always sweets that I crave at these times. 

What I eat for breakfast really sets the tone for the rest of my day.  If I have some eggs or Greek yogurt and some fruit, my days seems to go better.  If I have a healthy cereal without some solid protein, it's so much harder to make good choices throughout the day. 

When I am consistent with exercise I am less tempted to eat poorly.  I suppose this is because I don't want all that work to be wasted. 

I really enjoy the endorphins from exercise.  When I don't get them, especially if it goes on very long, I miss them to the point that I feel run down, deflated, and even sometimes depressed.  This usually leads right back to poor eating habits.  Kind of a vicious cycle if I don't keep up with things.

Last, and most important.  I have NEVER felt comfortable in my own skin. 

I think I always knew this deep down, but I didn't realize it fully until the last few days.  It's kind of unsettling to me.  And something I need to figure out if there is ever going to be a point where I'm happy with the state of my body.  Tomorrow I will dive into this.  I hope people will be kind, and understand that people of every body shape have their struggles. 

What are your fitness goals and struggles?  Can you relate to any of mine?